Trinidad Tlaseca surveys her living room.
Amid the smells of homemade food and dozens of roses a cacophony of brethren bumble about the lower quarters of her Wilkes-Barre home where a likeness of the Virgen de Guadalupe - who Trinidad calls the “Queen Mother” - stands guard. Trinidad has waited 3 long years for the coveted honor of hosting her.
“Since birth we are born believing in the Virgen of Guadalupe…The Virgen of Guadalupe guides our children, grandchildren, and family; and moves us along in our lives,” she says in a near whisper, lights from the Virgen’s flower-encrusted altar spilling onto her face.
Click the playhead above for our video about the Feast Day of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Wilkes-Barre, PA and click here for a transcript in Spanish.
Swipe for a slideshow of Wilkes-Barre’s 2021 Feast Day of our Lady of Guadalupe.
For the next year, Trinidad’s home will be an epicenter of prayer and worship in Wilkes-Barre’s Mexican community - one bestowed upon a single household per year. “It is a big, beautiful sentiment felt in my heart.”
Jaqueline Tapia recalls the history of Mexican-Spanish unity born out of a shared belief in the Virgin Mary - a tenant of the Catholic faith.
“In colonial times, the Spanish came with their religion - which is Catholic - and the Natives didn’t have a religion because they didn’t believe in anything except the sun and the moon.”
December 12, 1531 is widely accepted as the birth of the Catholic faith among indigenous Mexicans. According to tradition, the Virgen told Juan Diego - an Aztec who converted to Catholicism - to pick roses and stuff them in his cloak. When he opened the cloak for a skeptical bishop, the roses spilled forth and an image of the Virgen appeared in their stead.
Each December 12 thousands of revelers flock to Mexico City for a raucous celebration that pays homage to the Virgen de Guadalupe, and Hispanic Mexicans like Jaqueline - who moved to the States at 3-years-old - have partnered with St. Nicholas Church to put on a party of their own in Wilkes-Barre, PA - which boasts a 21% Hispanic population as of 2019 census data.
Girls run down Old River Road carrying a flag of Mexico to catch up with the parade.
“Because it’s a tradition for us in Mexico, we wanted to bring it here [in Wilkes-Barre], for our community.”
— Jaqueline Tapia
Tecuanes dancers reach the St. Nick’s church.
December 11
The revelry kicks off with a short mass - or rezo - on December 11 and a party in the basement of St. Nicholas Church - home to Wilkes-Barre’s weekly Spanish Mass overseen by Father Fidel Ticona.
A drummer keeps a somber, steady tempo. Thud Thud. Thud. Thud. A singular timbre under the fluorescent lights of the church basement. Then the pace quickens. The rustle of shells and metal charms layer into the symphony as barefoot dancers stomp, turn, duck, leap. Feather headdresses kiss the drop ceiling. They’re warriors before the statue of their Queen, the Virgen. An homage to their Aztec ancestors and their devotion to the Catholic faith.
The community gazes, entranced in the swirls of rainbow and flesh as kids duke it out with fallen feathers in a playful joust.
After meals of tamales, sweet bread, and soups - a culmination of donations from local bakeries and the elbow grease of parishioners - the community joins in prayer and song to whisk the Virgen to her new home for the year. In this case, that’s the house of Trinidad Tlaseca.
A woman walks in the Feast Day of Guadalupe parade carrying a statue of Guadalupe and candle
Once there, she’s showered with prayer until the early hours of December 12.
Tub after tub of fresh roses is carried through the prayer service - landing in the back of Trinidad’s foyer where they’ll be clipped and stapled to a platform - a traveling altar that's the centerpiece for the next day’s parade.
December 12
Before daybreak, parishioners gather to sing Las Mañanitas - a song akin to Happy Birthday - to commemorate the day ahead. In the early afternoon, flocks of people of all ages descend upon Trinidad’s house to slip into costume before a group of pallbearers hoist the Virgen’s altar onto their shoulders for the 2 mile walk to St. Nicholas Church.
A young boy dresses in traditional Mexican clothes.
Christian Tapia adjusts his Chinelo hat.
The Parade
First you hear the trumpets, pulsating from a loudspeaker half a mile away. Then they come into focus. Tecuanes. Chinelos. Aztecs. Moras. The procession of Mexican antiquity dancing through Wilkes-Barre’s streets.
Tecuanes lead the charge - wide gaits slink and lurch as sequined sombreros catch the waning sun. Moras follow closely behind - billowing skirts and swinging limbs cutting through the brisk December air. Then come the Chinelos, bouncing down the pavement in kaleidoscope whirls of neon and plumage; faces hidden behind stiffened masks. Jaqueline is one of the Chinelos.
“The reason why - Chinelos - we dance, is because the Natives were not allowed in Carnaval; which is a festivity that the royalties would have. So the Natives, on their day off, would mock them with their costumes and wear masks to protect them from getting in trouble or being punished.”
And then you see the Virgen, floating about the crowd on a bed of psalms and roses. The Mexican flag snakes through the parade - a tether between the historical and religious gravity of the day.
It culminates at St. Nicholas Church, where parishioners shuffle inch by inch on bent knees to follow the Virgen down a cascading aisle before a mariachi accompanied mass.
For Jaqueline Tapia, this display of heritage and reverence is an invitation to preserve her culture.
“We want the [Wilkes-Barre] community to know that our culture, what we have, everybody’s welcome to come because we’re an open community. We want everybody else to participate and learn more about our Spanish-Hispanic culture and also to make sure that our kids, and our generation, keep on keeping with our culture and what we believe.”